


no homo, bro

by orphan_account



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blind Date, Fluff and Humor, Gay Panic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Osamu and Sakurai's date is more gay panic and an excessive amount of swearing rather than anything actually romantic, but hey, whaddya expect from two seventeen-year-olds?
Relationships: Sakurai Sho/Original Character(s), Sakurai Sho/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	no homo, bro

**Author's Note:**

> laugh at me all you want for writing oc/canon in 2020 let me live

Honestly, Osamu has abso-fucking-lutely no idea what to do on this date.

Eikichi'd wrapped his arm around Osamu's shoulders by the school gates, still reeking of sweat from the damned baseball club he'd joined—hell, Eikichi doesn't even go to the same school Osamu does. He hadn't faltered when Osamu shoved his arm away, and instead, kept on putting it back like Osamu was a candy Eikichi couldn't stop reaching for. With all his long-limbed, awkward grace, Eikichi had said, "I have a date set up for you!"

So, yeah, after some questionable bribery, here Osamu is, waiting for the girl he's s'posed to be meeting at some fancy café he's only seen in the girly mags his ex-girlfriend of three hours buys with her pocket money. He's been itching to get out, especially with one of the waiters coming over to his table every three minutes or so to ask him if he's waiting for someone or not, or some random bullshit about how the café had to make space for the new gaggle of teens wanting to have a meal here.

Whatever. Osamu ignores all of it, sighs with his elbow on the table, and looks outside the window solemnly at the people strolling down the streets. There's no sign of a girl in a Keio uniform, which kinda annoys Osamu 'cuz he'd spent a while trying to ask people what the Keio high school uniforms were just in case. He sighs once more.

Osamu's almost tempted to leave once the waiter comes over for the nineteenth time, but just as the waiter starts babbling jargon at Osamu, someone slides right into the wooden seat in front of Osamu and waves the waiter away like it's no big fuckin' deal.

It's not a Keio high school girl. It's a Keio high school boy.

A Keio boy with floppy black hair, a wrinkled school uniform with the blazer n' all. Not gonna lie, Osamu thinks the Keio boy's got a nice face, maybe one Osamu would see on all those Johnny's Jrs type of thing. God, one look at his face screamed Keio, and another look screamed kissable.

Wait. No. Osamu means punchable. Probably. Fuck.

The guy flips through the menu mindlessly, scrutinizing each and every meal under his breath. "This parfait looks too high in sugar," the guy grouses, then perks up and smiles sheepishly at Osamu, a complete 180°. 

"I'm Sakurai Sho," Parfait-hating guy says. He holds his hand out and tilts his head inconspicuously, but to Osamu, it's kinda setting off each and every fight or flight alarm in his brain.

"Yoshikawa Osamu," Osamu says in return, still shell-shocked. Was this how all the bratty teens felt when they saw a 'good' teacher for the first time?

Okay, well, maybe he's been watching too many delinquent dramas at home. Osamu holds his own hand out, stiff and still in slight shock from the fact he'd been tricked, and that this Sakurai Sho Parfait Has Too Much Sugar Guy doesn't mind at all being seen at a place like this. He has no idea what to do. 

"Well, I do, so don't worry," Sakurai says, unaffected as he firmly grips Osamu's hands. It only takes Osamu a second to realize he'd voiced his last thoughts allowed—fuck, he hoped Sakurai hadn't heard the whole moniker thing-y. "Oh, I definitely heard you," Sakurai adds on, and Osamu feels like bolting out of the café entirely.

Sakurai's the first to break the handshake, which is good, 'cuz Osamu felt like he'd die with his hand glued to Sakurai's if he'd kept it there. Holding his hand doesn't seem like a bad idea to him, honestly, it's kinda sick. Holding your homie's hand. Normal things for homies to do with one another.

Right, it's just a homie thing. Osamu swallows hard as he watches Sakurai flag back the same waiter from before, and Osamu doesn't miss the way the waiter raises a brow at the fact he and Sakurai are seated opposite of each other rather than besides. Getting into public fights is very bad, Osamu has to remind himself. Very bad.

Sakurai doesn't even ask him what he wants or what he prefers. Two plates of chicken Alfredo pasta with water and one coke. Osamu doesn't even know which drink is supposed to be his, or if Sakurai's even ordered for him at all. Knowing Eikichi when he'd been in his pro-boxing phase and had the biggest crush on some random nun, the people you least expect to be a glutton could always be one. Not like that's a bad thing, though, Osamu thinks they're cool.

The awkwardness in Osamu's cold-warm heart is almost irritating. Where does he look? Sakurai's face is a big no-no, since Osamu's torn between kissing Sakurai and punching him. Anything below the neck is weird too, makes Osamu feels like a pervert, and oh fuck, Sakurai's the one staring at him, not the other way around.

Sakurai laughs. Light, kinda like a chortle, whatever that word actually means. "Did you even bring any money?"

"Of course I did!" Osamu exclaims. On instinct, he whips his leather wallet out of his back pocket, the silver chain clanging onto the table, and Sakurai's got it in his fingers before Osamu can snatch it back.

"You're paying," Sakurai replies, humming as he locks the button of the wallet. Motherfucker must've seen the ten-thousand he'd saved up from the pocket money he'd gain monthly from his parents in there—that was supposed to be for the Keio girl! A fancy sundae, some cute jewelry from a street stall, purikura pictures!

Well, Osamu kinda has no problem with using it on a Keio boy either. It's not like it's unusual for a bro to spend some money with another bro, right? Right?

Anyways. Osamu frowns, hoping the exaggerated wrinkles in his face make his terror more worthy. "You're paying for your meal, Sakurai-san."

"Well, yeah, since I know how dates are supposed to work." Sakurai smiles. "By the way, you suck at this."

It takes all of Osamu's will and the fact the annoying waiter's back with two plates of hot pasta not to throttle Sakurai over the table.

~

Sakurai paid for it all, surprisingly. Osamu's still not sure why the hell Sakurai'd even took his wallet and examined the inside like he was doing a drug inspection, but Osamu's kinda glad he didn't spend a single yen that could've been used for other important business in life. Such as spending them on someone he likes, maybe Sak—

"There's a manga café nearby, you wanna go?" Sakurai asks, leaning in a little too close into Osamu's personal space. They're the same height, so Osamu feels his fingers brush against Sakurai's and he can't tell whether or not he wants to hold Sakurai's hands or break his joints.

Osamu nods awkwardly. He was going to get through this without getting an ambulance called on someone. "Sure."

~

Sakurai goes for the basic hero shounen mangas, things with lots of violence and speeches about courage and other bullshit Osamu's getting bored of hearing. Or reading. Whatever. Osamu grabs himself some romance instead, sits on the café's sofa right by the armrest as he flips through the pages.

And like the cunning motherfucker Sakurai Sho Parfait Has Too Much Sugar Guy is, he sits right in the middle, leans against Osamu in lieu of using the actual sofa.

~

It's eight and dark outside by the time they finally need to separate. Osamu ends up relinquishing his e-mail address and number to Sakurai, and Sakurai's own ends up with Osamu's. As Sakurai boards the train, Osamu's left on the platform, already trying to remember the numbers through a made-up jingle. 

Osamu's learned a lot of things about Sho in an afternoon. Yeah, Sho, no longer a Sakurai to Osamu.

  1. Sho's kinda nerdy-looking, but he's a complete bad guy underneath. Listens to American rap filled with words Osamu can't understand, spews out bars, freestyling about how chocolate spread on bread was better than strawberry jam. Osamu's not sure what's going on when it all happens, but he does beatbox for Sho's beat. Well, tries to beatbox.
  2. Sho doesn't eat in between meals, which kinda sucked, considering Osamu was planning to get that ice cream paid by Sho. Sho ended up complaining about how he'd been paying all along throughout the whole day, and Osamu simply shrugged it off and bought Sho a fruity ice-pop to make up for it. Sho ate it anyways, what a lame liar.
  3. Sho's hands are nice to hold, in a totally platonic, no homo kinda way. Osamu's palms are meaty and his fingers are too long, but Sho's own hand simply fits, like a key and padlock, a missing piece of a puzzle if Osamu's gonna get poetic and shit. 
  4. Sho's got the world ahead of him, considering his family line. Lotsa rich people, lotsa fancy people Osamu would avoid just 'cuz they irritated him too much. It's a miracle Osamu hadn't smacked Sho right in the head at least once; maybe it's a special best friends kinda thing.
  5. Sho likes reading One Piece, and he's really into Zoro's character for some reason. Maybe it's the swords, maybe it's the green hair, maybe it's the rough personality. Hell, even Sho's had the guts to say Osamu was akin to Zoro! No fucking way Osamu's gonna be a lame manga character.



And Osamu's learnt one new thing about himself, too.

  1. He might be bisexual or gay, and it's all Sakurai Sho Parfait Hating Guy's fault. Stupid hands and stupid punchable/kissable face. Fuck. 




End file.
